Page 27 of Not Taken

And it was one of those receipts he pulled out before throwing it on my lap and shoving the glove compartment closed.

I lifted it up to get a better look, as if I could see through the layers of paper. I didn’t really want to unwrap it.

Eli had gone back to staring at the road, and I thought he’d shut down on me again until his quiet voice covered me.

“You were never supposed to be more than a mark, Caleb.”

Pain creased his face, and he put his foot down. We were flying along now, no break between the streetlights. It was dark enough that we could probably get away with speeding, but Eli kept us at seventy-five.

My hand trembled as I pulled off the receipts to reveal the photo. I gasped, and not just from the pain eating away at me.

His arms wrapped around a woman, his head on her shoulder as she clasped a baby in a pink blanket. And they looked elated. Eli had never smiled like that for me, or anyone I’d seen.

He was a different person in that photo; he adored them both so much that there was no darkness in him at all. Nothing like the burning pain I saw every day; no hatred, no disgust, just pure love beating off of him for his family.

“Where…” I coughed. “Where is she?” Where’s the kid I never knew he had? And what other bombshells would he drop on me?

His mouth was a hard line. I wasn’t going to ask about his wife. I didn’t want to know, especially after what he said at the depot. And he had that whore he visited in Phoenix, but now I was wondering if that was even real.

“Eli?” I growled. “I killed my fucking dad for you. I did it because I'd rather blow his fucking brains out than yours. So answer the fucking question.”

The tension that was already heavy between us kept building, and I was ready to fucking blow until he finally spoke.

“Three years ago,” he said coldly, “Wyatt and Bruno broke into our house and raped and murdered my wife in front of me. Lacey, my daughter, Wyatt met her right afterwards, still wearing her mom’s blood, and promised my baby girl he would come and find her if I ever misbehaved. So she went into Witness Protection with my parents.”

He cut himself off, shaking his head as he chewed the inside of his lip, the unbattered side. I wanted to prod him, but I could tell it wasn't the time for me to open my fat mouth.

“She was an agent, too. Undercover for a while, until she got pregnant. We met in training. And she…”

The bullet was ruining me. My vision burst with black dots, but I needed to hold the fuck on, to listen to Eli’s story at least. If I was dying tonight, I was doing it with Eli next to me.

“I've poured over your reports, Caleb. I studied you and your family for a year before I even met you. I know your shit, I know what you've done. So don't call me out when you don't even know what they did to my wife.”

His body grew even more tense, if that was even possible. His muscles cut harsh lines through his suit in the dark light as he continued.

“They tied me up and made me watch them, Caleb. Hours. Just hours and hours of her screaming until they finally ended her. I had to explain to my daughter why she couldn't see her Mom any more. And do you know why?”

“What-”

“Ask me, Caleb,” he said bitterly, dipping his chin to hide his expression. “Ask me why.”

I swallowed, my throat so dry I didn’t know how much longer I could speak for. “Why?” I eventually said.

“Because your uncle and your fucking cousin wanted information. And she gave it to them in the first thirty minutes. Did they stop? Not for a second. No matter how much we begged. So, tell me I'm a fucker for getting retribution, and then think about what you fucking did.”

I tried to laugh but everything about my body was so fucked that I wasn’t sure why I was still trying. “What the fuck did I do?”

“If you kept your cock to yourself, you wouldn’t be bleeding out in my fucking car.” He snapped, his voice cracking around us, the silence that followed burning into me. I was a goner, I knew that. And yet, I couldn’t back off. Because this was the most he'd ever shared of himself with me.

Eli eased his foot off the brake, as his left hand fell from the wheel, reaching to the little pocket behind the steering wheel, where he pulled out a cheap mobile. It beeped as he quickly sent off a text.

“So, you're a fucking murderer?” I snarled. I tried to lunge at him, but he grabbed my arm and shoved me back into the seat. I yelled out, the pain properly blinding me as I tried to grab the car door again.

“And you're not?” Eli raised his brows. “Don't judge me, Caleb. We don't have time for it.” His voice was so cold, like nothing had ever happened between us.

The phone rang, and he answered it instantly.

“One-four-nine-three,” he said. His bad arm on the wheel was barely keeping us straight. “Yes. Yes. Agent Knightly. Two. No.”

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